


About Life

by planningconquest



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin is a girl, Birth, Crash Landing, Description of Birth, F/M, Firmus Piett doesn't know how to help, Fluff and Crack, IDK how pregnancy works, Padme is a boy, Pregnancy, Shmi Skywalker is a Jedi, not very graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2020-10-05 01:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20480459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planningconquest/pseuds/planningconquest
Summary: Darth Vader crashes on a tiny planet with two roger droids, a clueless ensign, and the twins are coming.





	1. Chapter 1

Crashing on a planet without technology already presented a multitude of problems that Ensign Firmus Piett didn't want to deal with. Crashing on a planet without technology, saved by the supernatural powers his commander wielded solved some of those. The shuttle landed, more or less intact, with Sith Lord, Ensign, and the two droid pilots alive and well. 

The problem Piett was having trouble accepting, was the sight of Darth Vader hunched over the crumpled bench. All six feet of her trembling in pain as she clutched a monstrously protruding stomach that Piett had somehow missed. How he had missed the fact that Vader was hugely pregnant, he wasn't sure. His head was still clearing, having been rattled around in a ship that had had a total free-fall from the upper-atmosphere until Vader had slowed the descent. 

"GAH!" The woman, who he had once seen strangle an officer on a whim, was gasping in pain and he backed away hastily as she turned gold eyes on him. "Piett!" 

"My lord!" He snapped a hastily salute, ignoring that half his sleeve was missing. 

"Piett," her voice cracked, "where is the med-kit." 

"Uh," he looked around; it was probably on the half of the shuttle that had burned up in the atmosphere. "Um...I don't see it." 

"We, GUHHHH," after a minute of deep breathing, she staggered upright. "We aren't safe here, Piett." 

"The baby!" He blurted, as she took a shuffling step toward the foliage outside the ship. "My lord...you're pregnant!" 

"Really?" She paused, "I didn't KNOW!" 

"Baby?" The pilot droids clanked out of the cockpit, "is the baby here?" 

"You knew!" He demanded, following the Sith Lord at a safe distance. He didn't dare offer to help. 

"It was obvious," the second droid pointed out. "Ship's databank explained it to me." 

"I," Firmus yelped as a branch snapped against his chest, "Lord Vader!" 

"What?" She paused, black cloak pooling around her as she hunched over. Piett wasn't sure he'd ever heard her sound so worried. 

"Don't you...need to." 

"The ship is going to explode," the woman snarled, "and we need to be clear of the blast radius. Hurry up!" 

"Right, right, right," he followed the Sith's stumbling path and wondered how the hell she was staying upright. He was trying to figure out how he had missed the fact that she was pregnant. He had been on her ship for a year! He should have noticed! Did she use her powers on him? Is that why the droids noticed before he did? The droids were impossible to mind trick, so that might explain it. "How can you be pregnant?" He asked without thinking. Vader's eyes shifted to blue as she turned around, stunned into disbelief. "You're a Separatist Sith Lord! How?" Twenty years in the future, Piett might not have been so stupid, and voiced his confusion to clearly; but he was only 18 and had enlisted in the CIS cause by accident. He'd meant to sign up with the Republic. Only the steadily building pain was keeping Vader from strangling him. 

"Humans have sex," the first droid told him. If droids could sound cheerful, this one did. 

"SHUT UP!" Vader pitched to the side, falling against a boulder as she screeched Metal fingertips dug into the stone, sending sparks into the air. Piett and the two Rogers were frozen. "SHUT UP!" 

"My lord, we should find somewhere to...rest." He blushed. "This can't be good for you." 

"What do you know of pregnancy?" The hiss was poisonous, but Piett rallied. 

"We need somewhere to set up camp, Lord Vader. We need to find a way to alert a ship! Most importantly." 

"Oh, Gods," she moaned, knocking her forehead against the rock. "This system is empty. It'll be years before anyone comes through." 

"We can jury rig what's left of the ship," he said imperiously. Stick his nose in the air, a habit he'd learn to break in a decade. "I know you have excellent mechanical skills." He waited, Vader was still clutching the boulder and moaning piteously. 

"We're stranded, and I'm going to be raising my children as hick farmers with an idiot ensign and two roger droids!"

"Excuse me?" Insulted, he looked back at the droid. "Lord Vader, we just need to set up camp. It'll be hours before the baby comes." 

"I've been in labor!" Vader snarled, the hair on the back of his neck rose. He wasn't sure if his head would be attached much longer. "For hours!" 

"Ah." So the situation was a little less than ideal. One shuttle crash, one laboring Sith Lord with a hair-trigger temper, two Roger droids without a complete A.I. program between them, and one accidental Separatist ensign. Behind him, the ship exploded. 

#$#$# 

Jedi Knight Shmi Skywalker paused in the middle of her katas as the Force warbled. It wasn't a regular warble, coming from every direction as if the Force was about to manifest. It had happened once before, long before she was a Jedi. Back when she'd feared being bought by anyone who owned a brothel. Her mysterious pregnancy had saved her, and her mechanical skills had gotten her dragged to Tatooine. 

"Maza?" Ahsoka Tano, her padawan, had paused beside her. Her arms weren't trembling, Shmi was proud to notice. "What's up? Why are we stopping?" 

"Shh," Shmi dropped her stance, trying to reach and figure out what was making the Force dance to cheerfully. "Ahsoka, do you sense it?" 

"Sense what?" The togruta glanced around the hanger. Captain Rex and Kix shrugged when she looked at them. "What do you sense?" 

"I don't," Shmi closed her eyes, the giddiness seemed to climb under her fingertips; anticipation was building. "Captain Rex, please obtain us a ship. Kix, please gather a large med-kit with extra blankets. Ahsoka, comm Yularen and tell him we need to drop out of hyperspace in two minutes." 

"What about the mission?" 

"What about it?" Shmi smiled to see Rex and Kix already obeying. "Ahsoka." 

"Obi-Wan won't like this," she warned, and Shmi could only laugh. After Gardulla and Watto, what could Obi-Wan's frown do? As always, Ahsoka grinned as she obeyed one of Shmi's less-than allowed orders. 

Two minutes later, a shuttle carrying a Jedi Knight, a Jedi Padawan, a clone commander, and a clone medic left the ship despite Admiral Yularens objections. No doubt Obi-Wan would be hearing about this as soon as Yularen could get a signal out. 

"What are we going after?" Ahsoka asked when Shmi had programmed the ship into hyperspace. "What were you sensing?" 

"I'm not sure," the knight admitted, "I'm sure I'll figure it out, whatever it is." 

#$$#$#$v 

Piett was all but vibrating with fury, his hands fluttering around Vader's shoulder's as he tried to figure out what to do. He didn't know the basics of the birthing process, and he wasn't sure how to help the murderous woman. Last time he suggested deep even breathes, he'd felt an invisible hand around his neck tighten until he saw spots. 

She'd staggered into the shade of a tree, whose thin branches hung to the ground, creating a small and airy green enclosure. It was the best that they could do in the circumstances, and Piett had already stripped off his jacket for her to use. Still, Vader was adamant and furious at the idea she needed help. Leaning against the tree was helping soothe her pain a bit, but he could see tears still tracking down her cheeks. 

This was the same woman who had lost an arm to Master Qui-Gon Jinn and returned dry-eyed and furious. She had commanded a dozen battles, flying at the front-line and crushing Jedi and Republic opposition. She had captured Senator Amidala a dozen times. Vader did not cry before today Piett hadn't been sure she could feel pain. Before today he never would have entertained the idea that Vader could or would have sex. He'd seen her break a man's neck for even propositioning her. 

"My lord," he tried again, "do you want me to find some water? Some...kindling for a fire?" 

"The closest body of water," she clutched her stomach harder, voice breaking into a pained cry, "is eight kilometers away. "It's too far." 

"Oh," he swallowed hard and wished his own mother was here. "Would you like me to do anything?" 

"Go back a few hours," she suggested when she could speak again, "and keep Sidious from trying to kill me." 

"Who....what?" 

"Or get us somewhere with decent medical care? They're a month early!" 

"Premature!" He paused, "They're!"

"Twins," Vader laughed through her pain and her eyes turned back to blue. At the moment, she looked impossibly young. She was only a few years older than Piett. "Too Force-damned early." 

"I'm sorry, My lord." 

"It's fine," she shrugged his hand off her shoulder. "Where did the droids go." 

"I sent them away, my lord. They weren't very helpful." 

"More helpful than you," one droid said. It was sitting with it's back to the tree, just outside the leaf curtain. 

"What can you do," Piett demanded, "that I can't! you didn't even know what pregnancy was!" 

"At least we could tell!" 

"My lord," Piett firmly ignored them, "what do you want me to do?" She considered him and leaned her head against the tree with a miserable laugh. He almost missed her hand as she held it out. With every ounce of gravitas the situation deserved, it took it and let her nearly crush his knuckles to dust as the next contraction hit. 

#$#$# 

The Force heaved enough that even Ahsoka noticed. Her eyes snapped open, and she focused on her master piloting calmly. 

"Maza...did you sense that?"

"We're getting closer," Shmi noted, tilting her head to one side. "Much closer." 

"To what?" Ahsoka gritted her teeth as the pressure around her montrals mounted. It wasn't atmospheric, so it had to be Force. "This doesn't feel right. Something's wrong." 

"We'll have to go in with our weapons hot," Rex joked, poking his head into the cockpit. "General Skywalker, do we need reinforcements?" 

"No, Captain Rex," she sent him an indulgent smile. "We'll be just fine. Ahsoka, you don't need to worry, there isn't anything more natural than this." 

#$#$# 

After another hour or two, Piett was at his wit's end and trying to do something. He tried dabbing a few drops of water from his water bottle against her forehead only for her to snap at him to not waste it. He'd tried echoing her breath until she tried to strangle him. He was in the process of trying to pat the top of her head soothingly when the woman focused on something past his shoulder. 

"What?" He turned to see a tall Jedi slip through the curtain, and he had his blaster out before he realized it. 

"Not one step further, Jedi," he ordered, "I won't let you attack Lord Vader while she's vulnerable." 

"Oh, Ani," her voice was soft and elderly, and as she lifted her head and her hood fell back, Vader gasped out a word that sent Piett reeling to the mossy ground. 

"MOM?" 

"Ani," ignoring him completely, the Jedi hurried to Vader's side. "Oh, Ani." 

"Mom?" Piett turned to find himself face to face with an equally shocked Togruta Jedi. Where had she come from?

"Shmi! You have a kid!" The girl exclaimed. Shmi, Vader's mother, was already hugging her daughter. "Your kid is Darth Vader! The crazy sith lady!" 

"Lord Vader is not crazy!" He protested, equally stunned. 

"Mom," Vader clutched at her mother. They were so alike, their eyes and mouths the same shape, but their clothes spoke of a deeper division — pale blue Jedi robes against the inky blackness of a Sith. A division neither woman seemed to care about. "You're here, what are you doing here?" 

"You needed me, Ani." 

"Ani?" Piett and Ahsoka echoed to each other. 

"Kix! have you brought the things?" 

"Yes, general," two clones joined the crowd under the tree. Visibly stunned at the sight of a sweaty Vader and her swollen stomach. "Uhhhhh, Vader?" 

"Captain Rex, meet my daughter," the Jedi woman said patiently, yanking off her cloak and beginning to roll up her sleeves. "Ahsoka, young man, you can go wait with the droids." 

"Sir!" Piett focused on Vader, cringing when she turned a venomous glare on him. 

"OUT!" 

"Yes, my lord." Grateful for the escape and the timely rescue of the Jedi, he turned on his heels and made a beeline for the curtain. He was joined by Ahsoka and the clone captain a moment later. Both looked like they'd been sucker-punched. 

"Did you know that General Skywalker had a daughter?" Rex asked, and Piett assumed he was asking the group, so he shook his head. 

"I didn't even notice that Lord Vader was pregnant."

"How?" 

"Mind trick, I think, but she also wears heavy robes all the time." He refused to be embarrassed. 

"I know that true-born folk have parents but...Vader?" Rex rubbed his forehead. "Vader having a mother? General Skywalker being her mother? Do you think the council knows?" 

"I don't know, but I bet Shmi knew that her daughter was Sith. Vader's been fighting for a while." 

"Birth sounds painful," a droid piped up as another pained cry rent the air. 

"I came from a tube," Rex shivered uncomfortably. "None of this messy stuff." Piett twitched, he had never imagined that Vader could make a noise like that. 

Several hours later, his nails bitten to the quick and his hands sore from anxiously wringing; there seemed to be some progress. Night had fallen on the small planet, at some point Ahsoka had built a small fire, Rex had built an emergency shelter, and Piett had paced endless circles around their small camp. He knew there was nothing he could do. He knew that Vader would kill him if he tried to intervene. She didn't need him to intervene; she was a powerful Sith. Her mother was a Jedi Knight. They'd be fine. 

"Will you sit down?" Ahsoka Tano asked irritably, "you're making me nervous." The force had been wreaking havoc on her nerves all afternoon. Across the galaxy, Dooku, Yoda, and Windu could feel the Force heaving and gasping. For some reason, Senator Amidala was dreaming of a tall tree and wretched amounts of pain. 

"Excuse me for worrying," he tried to affect calm, but it didn't help. "She's having a baby!" 

"I know. A baby Vader running around is the last thing we need." 

"I think General Skywalker can take the baby," Rex suggested, and Piett gaped. 

"Absolutely not! You honestly don't think she'd take the babies!" 

"Vader is a Sith! She shouldn't be having children! She'll make them all evil! You know she's nearly killed me in the past!" 

"You probably deserved it. "

A yell interrupted their budding argument, followed just moments later by a tiny wail. Piett, Tano, Rex, and the two droids froze. Another cry joined the first two minutes later. Ahsoka dropped her head to her knees as the Force burned around her, ignited by twin suns. For the first time in decades, Yoda chuckled. Mace began to laugh, and Amidala began to cry in his sleep. 

Piett couldn't sense any of that, but he grinned anyway. 

"Master Jedi," he called, "do you need my help?" 

"We're fine, Piett," Skywalker sounded tired, she appeared after just a moment. Blood splattered up her arms and over her tunic and in her hands was a small mass of red and flesh that sent him reeling. The Jedi dropped it on the fire, and the others sprang back in horror. "Just the afterbirth. Burning it is traditional on my planet." 

"Ew!" Ahsoka screwed up her nose, and Piett plugged his while Rex shoved his helmet on. "Master!" 

"How are the children?" Piett asked, and Skywalker gave him a gentle smile. 

"They are perfectly healthy." She vanished back under the tree, and Piett sagged in relief. 

"Do you think they came out with tiny red lightsabers?" Ahsoka asked an hour later and Piett shot her a glare.

"Why don't you come see," Shmi Skywalker reappeared, her arms were clean, and she was grinning broadly. "Ani says you can come in." 

"Right," Piett shoved his cap back on his head and ducked through the leaves. The shady enclave was illuminated by the small fire, casting a sweaty and pale Vader in a grim light. He'd seen all sorts of holo-movies where new mothers looked much more put together; clearly that wasn't the case. Vader looked exhausted, utterly wrung-out with her head cradled in Piett's former jacket. She was covered in a few blankets, a neat pile of black clothes laid beside her, joined by her boots. The clone medic was dozing beside her, legs crossed and head hanging low over his chest. "My lord?" 

"Piett," she stirred faintly, firelight reflected off her brilliant blue eyes. 

"Congratulations, my lord," he stared at the two bundles in her arms. The children seemed impossibly delicate, faint tufts of brown and blond hair on their still damp heads. Both were neatly swaddled and slept soundly in their mother's arms. "I am very glad Master Skywalker showed up." 

It startled a grin out of her. "You were useless." 

"Yes, sir. I was." He knelt beside her, still trying to wrap his mind around the situation. "Erm...Ani?" 

"My name," Vader sighed, "Anakin Skywalker. The name my mother gave me." 

"The Jedi mentioned...taking the children." He wasn't at all surprised when her grip on the children tightened. They didn't wake. 

"They'll die if they touch them." 

"That won't happen, Ani," Shmi reappeared, and the medic stirred. "I promise."

"What are their names?" Captain Rex asked he seemed utterly fascinated with the appearance of the babies. "Are they supposed to be that small?" 

"Luke," Vader hefted the baby with blond hair. "Leia," the baby with brown hair snuffled unhappily. "She takes after her father it seems, brown eyes and hair." 

"Father?" Piett didn't need to ask who the father was, Ahsoka was tactless enough to do it for him. "Who is the father?" 

"My husband?" Vader raised an eyebrow, and Firmus cheered himself with the knowledge that Vader clearly felt well enough to be sarcastic. 

"You're married!" At this point, Shmi was surprised. 

"Yes," Vader's irritability didn't phase Piett nearly as much as it used to. "I was defecting when I was shot down and shocked into premature labor." 

"Defecting?"

"You dragged me along!" 

"You wanted to be a Republic officer anyway," she dismissed him easily. "My husband is on Naboo right now." 

"You're married to Senator Amidala!" Ahsoka exclaimed and Vader snarled tiredly when both of the children began to wake. 

"How the hell did you know?" 

"He always makes moon-eyes when they mention you." Ahsoka accused, "you've captured him a dozen times!" 

"Those were consensual captures," the Sith explained, adjusting Luke in her arms. "I was sent to assassinate him three years ago...and....well." 

"Oh, Ani," Shmi reached around to pat her shoulder. 

"Mom," the woman grumbled, "come on." 

"But he's a Republic Senator!" Piett exclaimed.

"He's my husband." Shmi cooed at her daughter, Vader hissed. "And he's probably out of his mind with worry. 

"I liked Padme!" Ahsoka protested, "he was really nice! He's let me stay in the guest room!" 

"He wants to adopt you," Vader shrugged, watching Leia closely for any sign of waking. "I," the padawan glowered, "don't. I can't imagine a fate worse than having a snippy little Jedi running around." 

"Uh, you have twins now." Ahsoka stuck her tongue out, "you'd better get used to it, Skyguy." 

"Skyguy!"

"Ahsoka, please," Shmi pushed her shoulder, "please stop antagonizing her. Go get some sleep, Rex, would you take first watch?" 

"Sure thing, General Skywalker." The clone stared at the babies for a long moment. "Wow...they are really small." 

"And bright," Ahsoka stood, "I don't think any of the babies in the chreche are as bright as this."

"A testament to their power," Vader crooned, disturbingly pleased. Piett smiled despite himself. 

"So these are babies?" The droids joined the group, bright yellow eyes seemingly focused on the children. "Are all organics this small?" 

"It varies, Roger 1, go with Captain Rex to watch. I don't want to be under guard of a Republic officer for anything." 

"Roger, Roger." For several minutes Vader was content to stare at the twins, and she wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep. It wasn't until someone unfamiliar tickled the edge of her brain that her eyes began to flutter open. 

Mom was asleep, looking as peaceful as Vader had ever seen her. Kix had passed out long before her and was using her leg as a pillow. It was cute, if annoying; because he was heavy. Ensign Piett, the perpetually nervous accidental Separatist, had fallen asleep on top of Kix. Their shelter was quiet and beyond the leaves, Ahsoka was talking quietly with Roger 2. 

"I suppose I ought to offer my congratulations," she jolted, yelping as every nerve in her pelvic region ignited in liquid fire. It was only because she recognized the too-smooth and sibilant voice that Vader didn't rouse the others. Just beyond the edge of the fire with red eyes gleaming in the yellow light, was Thrawn. He looked, as much as Vader could see, terrible. No longer immaculately groomed. His hair hung to his shoulders, a patchy beard was growing in, and he was wearing animal hide clothes. He still carried himself with the same disdainful arrogance though. 

"Finally got exiled, huh?" Thrawn stepped into the firelight. "Where were you?"

"By the lake. I saw your wreck and made my way as quickly as possible. The Jedi arrived long before I did." 

"Eight kilometers, not a bad hike." Luke tugged at their force-bond, blue eyes fluttering open. They were impossibly wide as he gazed at her. As he reached out instinctively with the Force, she let the Darkness around her fade lest it frighten her son, to accept his grasp with a wobbly grasp of light. "He's hungry." 

"I'll excuse myself then," Thrawn bowed politely. "Congratulations, Lord Vader." 

"Skywalker," she corrected him, "Anakin Skywalker."

"Jedi Knight?" He asked and she rolled her eyes. 

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"Of course."

#$#$#$#$#$ 

"Why are we visiting Senator Amidala while Skywalker is out and about doing Force knows what!" Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi trailed on Qui-Gon's heels, feeling as much as a Padwan as he'd used to be. It was an awful feeling. "Do you remember what happened last time she was unattended?" 

"I recall," Qui-Gon sounded amused. "She managed to free an entire planet from Zygerrians. It was very impressive." 

"A planet that then refused to join the Republic." Obi-Wan felt compelled to remind the now-elderly Jedi. He glanced at the gardens and had to admit that Senator Amidala had excellent taste. "The fourth planet she's done this to and they refused to join the Republic or the CIS. Now there seems to be a loose coalition of planets declaring third-party independence!" 

"A tragedy to be sure," Qui-Gon didn't sound like it was a tragedy. He'd always been amused by Skywalker's many, many, many shenanigans. "Calm down, my former padawan. This is Naboo."

"Master!" Obi-Wan's hand fell to his saber as the Force around them trembled, "do you sense that?" It felt bright, and he had to screw his Force-eyes shut.

"I do," again, he sounded delighted. "Come on, Obi-Wan." AT the front door, he knocked. 

"Visitors!" The door slid open to reveal Ahsoka Tano, and Obi-Wan slapped a hand over his face. "Hey, guys! Maza said you'd be here soon!" 

"How is Shmi?" Qui-Gon asked, and he hefted the small basket of goodie he'd insisted they'd get from the store. Obi-Wan had never been so embarrassed to be a Jedi; standing in the middle of a department store while Qui-Gone perused a rack of stuffed animals. One of the clerks had been laughing at him. "We brought presents." 

"She's great, Master Jinn. Hey, Master Kenobi, do you want lunch? Threepio made some." 

"No thank you," Obi-Wan sniffed, that droid had an unfortunate habit of making everything too spicy. 

"Alright," Ahsoka gave a careless shrug, unbefitting a Jedi Padawan. "You have to ask Shmi if you can see the babies. I don't think Anakin would like you there, Obi-Wan."

"Probably not," Qui-Gon mused, stepping into the beautiful house. "How is Anakin, she must be exhausted." 

"Totally." Now that Obi-Wan got a better look at Ahsoka, he noticed that she wasn't even wearing Jedi robes! She was wearing the latest in teen Naboo fashion. She didn't noticed his pointed frown. "Don't make her angry." 

"I won't," Qui-Gon promised, "where is Knight Skywalker." 

"She's with..." both Jedi paused to see a young man about 18-years-old and looking deeply uncomfortable in his clothes. He looked familiar, but Obi-Wan couldn't place him. The boy sucked in a deep breath, "she's with...uh...Anakin." 

"I doubt Skywalker wants to see you." A tall blue alien turned the corner, a cup of caf in one hand and a pastry in the other. "Kenobi."

"Who are you?" Obi-Wan demanded. "And I trained Skywalker. I am sure she'll see me." 

"Qui-Gon!" Senator Padme Amidala rounded the corner, beaming. He had white liquid splattered on his shirt and heavy bags under his eyes, Kenobi was sure had never seen the man look happier. "You came!" 

"I brought presents," Qui-Gon repeated, and Padme laughed.

"Of course you did, come on...Obi-wan, you may only come if you promise to behave." 

"I am always behaved," he snapped, "who had children?" 

"Obi-Wan," Padme set his hands on his hips, "I will only let you visit my wife if you promise to behave." 

"Your WHAT?"

"You owe me ten credits," he heard Ahsoka whisper to the blue alien. 

"My wife," Padme explained patiently. "My wife gave birth recently." That explain the mess on his shoulder, spit-up. 

"I'll ensure he behaves," Qui-Gon set a hand on his shoulder as if Obi-Wan was an errant padawan. He gritted his teeth. He knew how to behave! He had dealt with children before. Granted, the creche masters didn't really want him to. 

"She isn't going to be happy about this," Padme turned around, patting Ahsoka's shoulder as he passed. Up through the enormous house until they reached a door that the senator pushed through. 

Obi-Wan first noticed the infant in Shmi's arms, swaddled in a beautiful white blanket. They were a miniature sun of Force power, and this close Obi-Wan had to squint to see properly. Shmi looked resplendent in dignified gray and white robes and smiled broadly at Qui-Gon when he entered. 

"Ani?" Padme crossed to the bed, and the woman laying there stirred. Rising slowly and Obi-Wan caught sight of her just as she saw him, blue eyes turning to bright yellow in a heartbeat. 

"VADER!" 

"KENOBI!" 

Before he could reach for his lightsaber, Qui-Gon cuffed the side of his head. "Obi-Wan, behave!" 

"She's a Sith Lord!" He cried, disregarding the fact that Vader had never looked less like a Sith. Someone had gotten her into clothes that weren't black. Plus, she was holding a baby wrapped in white. "You married the woman sent to murder you!" He demanded of the senator, who shrugged and didn't bother looking apologetic. 

"Shut up, Kenobi," Vader settled back against the pillows, but her eyes remained an ominous amber. "Qui-Gon, if you can't control him, I'll break his neck. Give Leia a demonstration of what to do with a man annoying her." 

"There's no need for that," Qui-Gon pushed Obi-Wan toward the bed. "We're only here to offer our congratulations, and I brought presents."

"Presents," Vader demanded flatly and didn't seem impressed by the selection of tiny stuffed animals in the basket. 

"Yes!" Qui-Gon sat on the edge of the bed, seemingly ignoring Vader's murderous aura. Padme certainly was and had climbed onto the other side to lean next to his wife. "May I hold the baby?" 

"Leia," Vader hissed, and reluctantly passed the child over. Obi-Wan was struck dumb at the pinched expression on her face. Qui-Gon smiled softly and turn to show the child to him. 

"Look, Obi-Wan." Leia was impossibly small, but her power arched around her. 

"The galaxy will tremble at their feet," Vader proclaimed, pleased. 

"Ani, dear," Padme sighed, "we've talked about this."

"Galactic conquest isn't mentioned until they're at least ten?"

"Ani!" 

"Mom!" Vader glowered at Knight Skywalker, and Obi-Wan had to sit down before he fainted. 

"When did you have a daughter?" He demanded, and Shmi shrugged. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

"You never asked, and now I have two wonderful grandchildren." Shmi held up the blond baby. "This is Luke." 

"Hello, Luke," Obi-Wan accepted the child, and as he looked into the bright blue eyes, figured that calling the council could wait.


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Vader and Padme Amidala meet for the first time.

3 and half years ago

It would be the perfect murder. No one else would see it coming.

Vader, Sith Apprentice, and the most powerful Force Sensitive in the galaxy was setting up the crime scene. It was difficult not to rely on the Force at the moment. She had to keep a tight lid on her power, or else as Jedi would sense her. 

Padme Amidala, the hamper to the war and the Sith, would die tonight.

Security had been hacked, the manservants and guards had been bypassed, and there was no way that any of them would hear a struggle. She would be in and out like a ghost, Amidala would be dead that the Republic would be none the wiser as to who did it.

As the door to the luxurious apartment slid open, Vader was a little surprised and chagrined to hear. 

“Come on in! I’ve got dinner ready!”

Dinner? Was he expecting someone? He must be. Vader stepped into the main hall, scarf firmly in place, and hood drawn down, and waited. 

“You don’t need to be shy,” Padme Amidala came around the corner, wiping dusty hands off on an apron. His attention was focused on the flour clinging to his nails. “The security has been handled.” 

What? Vader tilted her head to the side, smiling to herself when he raised his eyes finally and they met hers. They were brown, a glorious brown, light reflected through a fire opal; shining even the dimly lit hall. His long hair, luxurious and usually pinned into the most elaborate hairstyle possible, was braided simply and sensibly. For some reason Vader had half expected him to be prancing around his apartment in one of his Senate gowns, but he was wearing dark blue trousers, a pale gray shirt, and a dusty black apron. 

He didn’t seem to be afraid, and as he eyed her, and her assassins gear, he smiled. 

“I know this is supposed to be a clandestine meeting,” he grinned, “you don’t have to dress like that.” 

Vader tilted her head to the side, not sure what she should say...if she should say anything. Ventress would tell her to be done with the murder. Dooku would tell her to play with him. Sidious would sneer at her and tell her that any decision she made was idioctic and she was too stupid. 

“Like something out of a holo,” he raised a dusty hand to his mouth.

Who the hell had be been expecting that he hadn’t been startled to see them dressed head to toe in black and standing very silent. 

“I know this isn’t very,” he gestured at his clothes, flour fell to cover his very fine house slippers. “Nice.” 

“Are you an angel?” Vader demanded, and took a half step back as Senator Amidala blinked a few times and then looked away. 

“An angel?”

“From the Moons of Iego,” Vader tried to cover her mistake, but it was too late. “The...deep spacers talk about them...they’re the most beautiful beings in the galaxy.” 

“Oh,” he was definitely blushing, which confused her. He was very beautiful, it was constantly remarked on. “You’re funny. Come in, come in, take off your cloak and things. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. You are a little early.” 

“Yes,” Vader hesitated. Should she remove her cloak? Should she go along with the charade, pretend to be whoever the senator had been expecting? She had difficulty reading him without the Force. She honestly didn’t know what to do. He would probably figure out that she wasn’t who he had expected once he expected answers. 

Who had Padme Amidala expected?

#$#$# 

Sabe truly respected and honored his senator and former-king. They had been through thick and thin together, and he knew all of the man’s secrets. 

Including the fact that he was going on a date. 

It was a terrible idea. Not the date. Sabe thought Padme was lonely and needed company...but not this company.

Rush Clovis, a slime ball from the Banking Clan, was Padme’s intended date. Not that Padme knew that yet, it was a discreet and anonymous dating site after all. Sabe wasn’t Padme’s number one without reason, and tracking the other account was childsplay. It would have been an unpleasant surprise for Padme to see Rush Clovis on his doorstep, no matter what the Banking Senator thought. 

And because Sabe loved Padme so much, he was going to ruin his evening. He was going to make sure that Clovis never made it to 500 Republica. 

Thankfully, Captain Panaka was still on security, so Sabe felt perfectly comfortable with stalking the skeezy senator around the planet and hindering his efforts. 

#$#$# 

In the end, Vader decided to go ahead with the mission, and stalking down the hallway, came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the dinner waiting around the kitchen, mostly assembled. It looked and smelled delicious, and her stomach grumbled.

“I’m glad you came hungry,” Padme gave her scarf and hood another odd look. “I’m not normally much of a cook, but I thought I’d give it a try. You know, a home-cooked meal is...romantic.” 

Romance? In this galaxy? Romance itself was a romantic notion. It was nothing. It meant nothing. It was for manipulation, and as much a Dooku tried to educate her on the subject, Vader had never budged. 

“Are you alright?” Amidala turned from the food he was mixing. “If you are uncomfortable…I understand. I’m sure that the last person you expected to see tonight was a senator. It can be a bit much.”

“Why is that?” He was only a senator. They weren’t special. 

“I am a senator….and I was a king until recently. Some find that very intimidating. Oh!” He slapped his forehead, “you might be wearing the scarf and hood for religious reasons! I didn’t even think of that. I am so sorry.” 

“It isn’t that,” Vader blurted out, and Padme paused in his self-flagellation. “It is…” Did he know what Vader looked like? He shouldn’t, but the worry clutched her heart. Still, he expected her to at least take part in this, and it would be easier to kill him if he weren’t terrified. Slowly, she reached up and tugged her hood down and then her scarf. 

“Oh,” he wasn’t frightened of her appearance; he was intrigued. His beautiful eyes lingered over the scar o her right eye. He didn’t know who Vader was, and it was clear that he hadn’t been sure of the identity of his date. “Oh…I…I don’t really want to call you by your user name.” 

“My user name?” Vader furrowed her brow, and Padme rolled his eyes. 

“BounceChecksandCollect. I always thought it was tacky.” 

“It is tacky,” Vader agreed instantly. It was very tacky. 

“So…what do I call you?” Now at ease, he returned to his cooking. “would you like a drink?” 

Vader stayed in place. “A drink?” Would he try to get her drunk to catch her off-guard? What did he want? Was he the sort to hire an anonymous and accommodating prostitute? 

“Tea, alcohol, milk, anything. I’m well-stocked.” 

Dooku was always raving about tea. He proclaimed that it was a gentleman's drink. Ventress drank hard liquor like she wanted it to cauterize her stomach lining. 

“Do you have blue milk?” She wondered, and Amidala beamed. 

“I do, actually! I have a friend who comes over often for a cup. She tells me they don’t stock her at her…barracks.”

“Barracks?” Vader’s eyes narrowed. 

“She’s an officer of the law,” Padme said to cover himself, and Vader suspected that his friend was a Jedi. He had always been friends with Jedi. 

“Glasses are in the cabinet right there,” he nodded in the direction, “and the blue milk is in the preserver. I like mine cold, so it’s in the back.” 

Well, he’d offered a drink, and Vader had accepted it, so she went jerkily through the motions of getting herself a glass of blue milk. Then, standing back from the preparation table, which doubled as a bar and had the corresponding barstools, Vader watched Amidala work. 

“Do you want to sit down?” Vader sat stiffly on a barstool, now towering over the small man as he worked. “So…back to your name. What should I call you?”

“Anakin,” she blurted and took a drink to cover her surprise. Anakin was the name that the Sith had tried to beat out of her. They told her it meant nothing, and that she was only Vader. 

“Anakin,” his voice curled around her name, and Vader clutched her cup tightly as it did so. It sounded lighter than air coming from him. “I like it, and you already know mine.” 

“Padme Amidala,” she parroted faithfully. For several minutes they were silent, Vader sipping at her milk and Padme squinting at his datapad and then back at the mess on the table. 

“What about your hobbies? You’re always ready to talk about those?” There was a tilt in his voice that suggested that Padme didn’t actually like the hobbies that BounceChecksandCollect had talked about, but he wanted conversation. Not that Vader even noticed, because she plowed forward. 

“I like ships,” that was harmless information, right? “I like to fly. I can fly anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes,” with the Force and her skill, she could fly anything. 

“Do you race?” 

“I won the Boonta Eve Classic.” He was a Republic Senator; there was no way that he would know what that was, but he paused in his work. 

“The pod race?”

“Yes?” She could stop his heart if she needed to, but dinner smelled wonderful. 

“Goodness, I didn’t think humans could race pods.”

“I can,” Vader said, challenging him.

“You must be the best starfighter pilot in the galaxy.” He continued mixing the items together. “You know, the Chommel Sector isn’t far from Tatooine and.”

“I hate Tatooine,” she snapped, and this time, he looked more serious than nervous. 

“Would you like me to stop talking about it?”

Would that actually stop him? Would he really listen? Vader nodded sharply, and he nodded too.

“What about swoop racing? Coruscant has excellent underground racing that I’m not technically supposed to know about.” 

“Is it?” If she had enough time after this, she’d have to take a peak. 

“Naboo has a few excellent circuits, but the best place for racing is Corellia. You didn’t hear it from me.” 

“Corellia is the best place for swoop racing,” Vader agreed. She’d risked a lot to watch those races. “But that jerk Sebulba needs to be shot in his face. He’s an idiot racer.” 

“How is he an idiot?” And with that, Vader had an excellent ground for conversation. She had followed Sebulba’s career only because he kept popping up in the winnings, and she had hated him since she was a child. She hated him as much as she hated Sidious. With great detail and technical terms, she could describe what made Sebulba an inferior racer.

Padme listened as he worked, occasionally chiming in with an observation of his own, but mostly let Vader vent about her most hated rival. 

“If,” he said, sliding the concoction he’d made into the oven, “you are such an excellent pilot, why don’t you race him and beat him?”

“I…have….other commitments.” Dooku would know in an instant if she’d snuck out to go swoop racing. 

“I know the feeling,” Padme replied sympathetically. “That shouldn’t take too long to cook, and dinner will be ready soon enough!”

She could kill him now. He was calm and relaxed. There was no telling when the real date was going to show up.

“How early am I?” She asked, staring into the bottom of her cup. 

“At least half an hour.” She had already been there for over half an hour. Was the other person late…or an idiot?

“It’s alright, though; I like hearing about your interests, and you know so many technical things.” 

“I’m a mechanic,” Vader said. 

“Anakin,” he took off his apron and hung it up. The gray shirt seemed to fit him perfectly. “You are a woman of many talents.” He procced to pour himself a glass of wine. 

“Yes.” Padme was like no man she had met before. Nothing like the men on Tatooine, always eying her and her mother with such disgusting attention. Nothing like Dooku, who’s money and class and status made him an arrogant and pompous prick. Nothing like Sidious, who reveled in his power over people. Nothing like…any of them. Her stomach curled uncomfortably as he hopped onto the barstool beside her. She swiveled to face him. 

The look on his face was odd, and Vader glanced away. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to have done away with him already…there was an actual date coming…what would she do when they came?

#$#$#

Rush Clovis was cursing up a storm as he tried to argue with the parking meter and the enormous fine he’d just accrued. 

His speeder hadn’t been parked there long enough to get fine over 100,00 credits!

#$#$3

“Is this the first time you’ve done this?” Padme asked after a few minutes of quiet drinking.

“Done what?” Vader demanded. 

“Gone on a date. I just happened to notice that you’re not sure what you should do. You were much smoother online, but you’re awkward in person.” 

“I…” her mouth opened and then closed. “Yes…this is…the first time…I’ve gone on a date.” 

“How old are you?” 

“I…am…nineteen.” 

“Oh,” he seemed surprised. “I’m five years older than you…that’s an age gap.” 

“It means nothing to me,” Vader replied, drinking down the last of her milk. 

“Would you like more?” 

“No,” she folded her arms over her chest. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve gone on a date,” Padme sighed, leaning on the bar. “It's difficult to date at all…and trust your date when you have a job like mine. I’m wined and dined by so many senators and lobbyists who want something…that going out to eat means business. That’s why I insisted we meet at my apartment.”

“Beautiful people can never trust many people,” she relayed the tidbit that Dooku had tried to tell her a few months ago. 

“I…suppose not, then you must not trust very many people.” He sipped his wine as Vader nodded in agreement.

She paused, his words finally hitting home. “I…you think that I am…beautiful?” 

“Yes,” he set down down his glass, “why are you surprised?” 

“I…have no room for…beauty in my life.” It was power, strength, and violence the ruled her days.

“Not even me?” He winked, and Vader wondered what that meant. “I’m teasing,” he correctly interpreted her silence as confusion. 

“You are very beautiful,” she told him. There was no harm in acknowledging the truth. He had to have already known this. “I…as for room…I can’t imagine you lack any in your apartment.” She gestured. It was an enormous space. Far more than a single man needed, even if he was a senator. 

He was smiling faintly and continued to drink. “Would you like to play a game while we wait for dinner to cook?”

“A game?” What kind of game? Was the game where she had to avoid blasters? Was he going to shoot her? 

“I have cards; I also have the titles. I have a few holo.” 

“Tiles?” 

“It’s actually an ancient game that we play on Naboo. Almost no one knows how to play outside of Naboo…would you like to learn?”

“Yes,” Vader decided suddenly. This sounded like a real game—one where she didn’t have to risk life and limb. Or sit across a game board from Dooku as he pontificated. 

“Wonderful!” He jumped up, “I’ll go get my tile set! We’ll play in the living your, we’ll need more room.”

“More room?” Vader followed him from the room and into another. A wide window took up most of the outside wall, bathing the room in the muted glow from the lights outside. Traffic whizzed by, and she hardly noticed the beautiful furniture and decorations in favor of staring at the city skyline. From here, she could see the Jedi Temple; it’s spires reaching to the heavens. As stern and steady as the Jedi themselves. 

“Ani?” 

She whirled around at the nickname, eyes falling on Padme as he stood inside another doorway holding a box. 

“What?” Her heart skipped a beat or two. 

“Can I call you Ani?” 

“I….” she licked her dry lips and gave a faint nod. “Yes.” It sounded so delicate in his voice as if he spoke it with the same reverence used while praying.

“It is a lovely view,” he came up beside her. Vader wondered what kind of man he was to trust so easily. Had he even known betrayal? Had he always been able to trust the words of people around him? “It really reminds me of how small I am.” 

“You are short,” Vader agreed, and he huffed out a laugh. 

“That’s not what I mean. I mean that here, just within this view, there are…a billion people. All of them living and working and all of them…so different and varied.” She couldn’t open herself up to the Force, not when the Jedi were so near, but she nodded. “And I am just another person…living and working.” 

Vader jerked her head to the side, scoffing. “You are a senator. You were a king.”

“I am, and I was, but everything I did I do for Naboo. Now everything I do isn’t just for Naboo, but for the galaxy.” He nodded at the lines of traffic, “this window reminds me of that. If I weren’t doing it, then someone else would be doing it.”

“They wouldn’t be doing it as well as you.” The main reason Dooku hated Amidala so much was that the man was brilliant at his job. He cared for people, and it reflected in the way he spoke and acted. He was a thorn in Dooku’s side.

“Sometimes I wonder,” he sighed, tucking the tiles against his side. His contemplative gaze on the ships outside. 

“I do not.” Their eyes met in the reflection. “What is this game of yours?”

“Oh, well.” He turned from the window and moved to one of the couches. “It is an ancient strategy game. He opened the box, revealed beautiful black titles, smooth and perfectly rectangular. Unfamiliar symbols were painted on them. “This set was made from obsidian. Technically…black is considered bad luck…but with everything that happened…I requested two sets to be made.”

“Two?”

“The other is made with recast droid armor and chips of rubble. ” Padme began unpacking the titles into two neat piles. “I gave it to the current queen of Naboo to serve as a reminder.”

Anakin didn’t know what to say to that, so she sat down, staring at the stack of black tiles and the gold lettering stamped across the sides. 

As Padme explained what the lettering on the titles meant, how to play, and the best strategies to play with, the apartment began to fill with the smell of the cooking meal. As the timer went off, Vader let confident enough to play but was more than happy to abandon the game for food. 

“I really hoped this turned out well.” Padme muttered, pulling the pan from the oven and setting it on the stove. “I worked so hard on it.” 

“It smells fine,” Vader dithered around the kitchen and then began observing every one of the holos that were set up around the apartment. Padme at his coronation, speaking with senators. A holo of people who could only be Padme’s family, his parents, and his siblings. Several of Padme posing with others she didn’t recognize, and even a few shots that man might have taken himself. 

“Ani?” She turned, he hefted two plates piled high, “let’s eat in the living room. I want to see how well you play.” 

“Hmmm,” she acquiesced, even letting him top off her cup of blue milk. “It’s good,” she said, taking a bite. Not as spicy as she normally like her food, but decent flavor and texture, and it wasn’t a pre-packaged meal. She ate like a starving woman, vacuuming the food off her plate with only half of her attention on the first game.

She polished off the second plate as the second game dragged out. Padme, frowning over the tiles he had and the ones she had set down. 

“You’re good that this.” 

“Thank you.” Vader scraped her plate clean for the second time and then began stealing bites off Padme’s plate when he wasn’t looking. By the time he returned to eating, most of his casserole was gone, and he gave her a look of amused vexation. 

“There is more in the kitchen. If you’re hungry, go eat what you like.” 

As she set down her next tile to his cry of annoyance, she decided to take him up on his offer. Padme, not knowing how to parse down the portions, had made a truly ridiculous amount of food. There was cake too, and she cut herself a generous slice. As a second thought, she cut Padme a small one. He looked like the sort of man who watched his figure. Returning to the living room, the man was still fussing over the tiles. 

She set down her plate, the two slices of cake, and the bottle of wine he had been drinking out of. 

“Thank you,” he made no comment about the amount of food, “damn, you’re really good at this. Ah!” He set down the next tile, and Vader realized she’d lost. “Another match?” 

“Yes.” She needed time to eat all of the food. 

“With a little more practice, you’re going to be amazing.”

“Practice?” She asked, and Padme nodded. 

“Practice! We’ll have to play again.” 

“Right.” 

“Thank you for getting me a slice of cake. I hope you like it; it’s a specialty from Naboo.”

“You did a good job on it.”

“I didn’t make it,” Padme laughed, shuffling the tiles again. “I asked the cooks at the embassy to make it. It’s made with gunga fruit.” 

“It’s delicious,” Vader polished off her cake and set the dish aside, with her full attention to the game, she won the third round and then the fourth. She lost the fifth, and by that time, it was even later, and she wondered what had happened to Padme’s original date. 

#$#$#

Rush Clovis was screeching as he was pushed into a holding cell for assault of an officer. 

“I’LL SUE ALL OF YOU! YOU USELESS SHITS!” 

“That’s nice, sir,” a dark-haired officer shoved him through the door. Clovis didn’t see a badge anywhere. “Next time, don’t attack an officer.”

#$#$#$#4

Eventually, the date migrated from the couches to the chairs on the balcony. Padme was curled up on one of the chairs, leaning over the side and staring at Vader. The mostly empty wine glass dangling from delicate fingers.

“What do you like to do in your free time?”

“I…” Her free time was spent training. “I like to mix machines.” 

“Not just speeders and swoops?”

“I can fix anything.” 

“Amazing,” he sipped his wine. 

“You?”

“I don’t have much to do in my spare time, but I’ve gotten a certain fondness for romance novels.” 

“Romance novels?” 

“My mother thinks its because I’m lonely and sad, but I like happy endings.” 

“Perhaps you are too logical…and serious…and the books are…silly.” 

“They are silly, and some of them are really bad. When I was on Naboo, I liked to visit the gardens, or go to the lakes and go swimming.” 

“Swimming?” Vader had never gone swimming. “Gardens?”

“Naboo had some of the most beautiful gardens in the galaxy. Our roses are prized, but we don’t export them, not really. There’s so much green, and the little ponds all have fish. They’re connected so the fish can go from pond to pond. Naboo has so many waterfalls. I used to fall asleep to them. Hundreds of gallons falling over dozens of feet to the lakes…and oceans.” 

That was a lot of water. While Vader knew logically that there were whole planets made up of water and some had fresh water pouring from the hills and rocks, she couldn’t even begin to imagine it.

“It sounds…beautiful.” 

“You say that word like it is a foreign concept,” he took a drink, and Vader hunched her shoulders.

“Because it is.” She swirled her milk around and stared at the Jedi Temple in the distance. “It is…all hardness and power and…all about pain and comfort is.” Comfort wasn’t a foreign concept for Dooku. She had seen his house, it was almost as nice as Padme’s apartment, and he had an entire staff to feed him delicious food. Maybe the hardness and ugliness were only for Vader and Ventress? If Sith didn’t need comforts…then why did Dooku have so many? Did that mean Vader could take some for herself? 

“Oh, Ani,” a soft hand touched her elbow, and she glanced over. Padme looked…genuinely upset. “None in your life and.”

“You…you are,” she said because Padme was beautiful and…she was here.

He blushed a deep red, mouth falling slightly open, and then he looked away. “Anakin.” He hadn’t removed his hand from her elbow, and making a decision, she set down her mug and stripped the glove away. Her hand, as scarred and rough as it was, slipped perfectly into Padme’s as if it had always meant to be there. Padme’s stunned expression hadn’t moved, and eventually, he swallowed hard.

“Anakin,” he croaked out, and the emotions rising her chest felt like they might burst out of it. 

“You are an angel,” Anakin whispered because it was true. Padme was kind and beautiful and gentle, and patient. He was soft, and everything Vader had never known, been or seen. 

“I,” he stared at her hand and squeezed her fingers slightly and then lifted the unprotesting limb to his mouth. Warm air brushed over the back off her hand just seconds before his lips pressed against it. His brown eyes were focused on hers, and Vader could only swallow as he lifted his face. “I’m glad it was you.”

“I.” Her neck and ears felt hot, but she didn’t dare look away. “I wasn’t who you were expecting.” 

“No,” she didn’t feel alarmed. Had he figured her out? “But I’m glad it is you. I’m glad you…listened…and I’m glad you ate. Can we meet again?”

“I don’t know,” Vader admitted. She had failed her mission, but that didn’t mean that Ventress or any of the other assassins would fail. She stood abruptly. “I have to go.”

“Anakin!” He jumped up. He hadn’t let go of her hand. “I…I had a wonderful evening.”

“So did I,” Vader admitted, and with her free hand, she pulled up her hood. 

“I’d like to see you again,” Padme blurted, and Vader closed her eyes and shook her head. 

“No…you wouldn’t.” 

“Yes,” He said firmly, stepping closer. “I would.”

“I’m not you who you think I am.” 

“Anakin…please,” he was quiet as Vader threw her leg over the balcony, preparing to jump. “If you jump security will be alerted..they’ll know.” 

“I know, but my exit out the front is no longer possible.” How long had he known? He had still entertained her and fed her, and he had kissed her hand? She pulled her hand free, yanking her glove back on. “I’ve been lying.” 

“Not really,” he was smiling. 

“My name isn’t Anakin.” 

“Yes, it is.” 

“I,” she stared at him, and he met her gaze steadily. He did know, …and he hadn’t cared…or he didn’t care now. “Maybe…if…” 

“If I survive?” Vader nodded. “I’m very difficult to kill.” 

“You are,” she admitted, and let the small man tug her down. His lips, she noticed, were very pink. Against every bit of common sense, she leaned down the rest of the way, using her free hand to tilt his chin up. 

The kiss was simplicity itself, dry, chapped lips against soft, wine covered ones and lasted for a few seconds. 

“Please don’t tell them my name,” she said, “I will find you.” 

“Naboo, I will go on retreat soon. Come find me at Varykino.” Vader nodded as she pulled her scarf up and then tossed herself off the balcony. 

Padme rushed to the edge, watching her tall, lean form vanishing as she fell and continued to fall and then vanished. He knew she wasn’t dead, how he knew he wasn’t sure, but Padme knew that Anakin would be back. 

As he stared over the balcony at the traffic below, Panaka and the guards rushed into his apartment. 

“Senator! There’s been a security breach!” 

“Please call Master Jinn,” Padme said, raising his glass and draining it. “And tell him that there is a credible threat against my life.” He faced Captain Panaka with a smile. "And please ask him to bring Knight Skywalker."


	3. Date Night and Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex and Kix pay Princess Skywalker a visit.

Part of Captain Rex had always had an unhealthy obsession with Lord Vader. It wasn’t that he stalked her or anything or that he really, really, really hated her. 

It was different.

He really liked Vader, even if she scared the ever-loving hell out of him and that she could rain fire on his head and nearly cut him in two...but she never did. 

Don’t get him wrong, Rex adored General Skywalker. She was his general and he was her captain and he would follow her, he had followed her, into the pits of hell and back. She’d asked him his name, encouraged him to design his armor, and slapped Pong Krell when he’d insulted Rex. 

General Skywalker was his general, but Rex had often wondered what would have happened if Vader had been a Jedi. 

If they had found her instead of her mother. 

If she had become his general instead. 

Rex liked to consider Vader his nemesis and was flattered when she seemed to consider the same of him. On battlefields, they traded insults, firepower, barbs, and she’d once tossed him off a cliff. She spoke more respectfully to him than some in the Republic did. 

“I think this is a bad idea,” Kix muttered, but Rex waved him down as he pulled off his helmet and nodded to the guards. 

“Captain Rex and Medic Kix” he said, “here to visit Anakin Skywalker.” Naboo security took their job seriously, and Rex had considered asking them to train a batch of troopers. 

“Captain Rex,” Captain Panaka blinked a few times, “I’ll...inform Princess Skywalker.” He vanished behind the door and the guard pretended he didn’t exist. 

Princess Skywalker? He wondered how she could be a princess.

“She’ll see you,” Panaka said, emerging from the door. “Come in.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Rex and Kix entered 500 Republica, trying not to be dazzled by the beauty and sheer decadence. 

“Captain Rex,” he sighed as Threepio clanked towards them. “Thank the Maker! I am so pleased to see you!” 

Three years ago C-3PO had appeared, a slightly shabby and dented protocol droid that could speak 6000 languages and could survive being shot, bombed, and every other manner of trouble. Rex had been impressed by his durability even as it annoyed the hell out of him. Threepio was easily as obnoxious as the clankers he shot, but twice as sturdy. “Please keep quiet, as Master Luke and Master Leia are asleep at the moment.”

“Right,” he nodded and followed the droid into the living room. Spread out on the caf table were a dozen pieces of machinery and parts and hunched over it was Anakin Skywalker, slowly reforming Sith and currently under house arrest for punching Senator Orn Free Taa in the gut. She didn’t look up, and Rex hadn’t expected her to. 

“Princess Skywalker?” Kix asked, breaking the silence, and she turned her head just enough for them to catch a glimpse of the amber yellow eye and hateful glare. “How’d you rate that?” 

“My husband was once a king,” she muttered, “what do you want?” 

“I brought food,” Rex cleared his throat and hoisted the bag of Dex’s Diner take-out he’d stolen from General Kenobi. It was worth the scolding he was going to get to see the amber fade to blue and she turned around. “It’s General Skywalker’s favorite.” 

“I came to see the babies,” Kix input as they moved around the couch, inviting themselves to sit down on a couch that probably cost more than they did. 

“If you wake them,” the orange suffused her eyes again, and Rex grinned. 

“I’ve been reading up on babies,” Kix defended, “besides, you look like shit.” 

“You do,” Rex added as he handed the bag of food over. She tossed down her hydrospanner and slumped against the couch and opened the first box. 

“I’m under house arrest,” she muttered, digging into the scalding meat and noodles without a care for the mess she was making. “I would have thought,” she pointed the plastic fork at him, “that the Republic would be pleased to see actions taken against corrupt senators. Excuse me for pointing out the fucking obvious.” 

Even though she was General Skywalker’s daughter, Anakin had been raised by Sith Lords. It was amazing that she’d only broken a few ribs, not killed the twi’lek. 

“I’m sure the investigation will clear things up.” Rex cleared his throat as Kix went to observe the infants in the other room. When he was gone, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, the armor clacking together. “Thank you.” 

She slurped down a long noodle, keeping eye contact as it dripped sauce onto her chin. “You’re welcome.” He had a feeling she had been planning on saying something sarcastic but decided against it. 

Rex wasn’t sure what else to say. “General Skywalker is fine...erm, she’s busy right now.” 

“Training that snippy togruta,” the woman scoffed.

“Commander Tano is a credit to.” 

“I know, I know,” she waved the fork around, rolling her eyes. “She’s a good little padawan and strong little commander, but she’s still a snippy little togruta.” 

“She managed to fight you,” Rex pointed out, knowing he was treading on thin ice but he also knew that Skywalker wouldn’t dare hurt him. Her mother was fearsome and frightening and she had a fondness of Rex. 

Skywalker continued to eat, too tired to rise to the bait. Having twins must be tiring. Rex, Wolffe, Cody, Kix, and Fives had all been searching for information on raising babies and what it was like for new parents. Some of the stories made him shudder, and he could easily see even Lord Vader succumbing to the exhaustion of taking care of twins. Plus, once he’d gotten back to the troops, Kix had related what true-born births were like. 

The 501st had a new respect for General Skywalker and her daughter. 

Saluting mothers with their newborns was a fast-growing trend among brothers. Rex was sure a lot of civilians were confused. 

“They’re perfectly healthy,” Kix re-emerged from the hallway, carrying the twins. Leia’s face was screwed up into an unhappy frown, and Rex rose quickly to take her. Luke was settled calmly in Kix’s arms, staring up at them with bright blue eyes. 

“What the hell?” Skywalker demanded, sitting up a bit. “Kix!” 

“They were already awake,” Kix soothed her, taking the seat beside Rex. “He’s going to be an excellent general one day. Look at his grip on my finger!” 

“Pretty good,” Rex agreed, trying to remember the guidelines of holding a baby. Leia settled a bit but huffed so dramatically that he grinned. “You already sound like your mother.” 

“They will break this galaxy,” the not-as-reformed-as-Rex-thought- Sith Lord cooed at the bundles in their arms. “Reshape it for a glorious Sith Empire.”

“Right,” Rex cleared his throat, watching Luke waved a tiny fist. The baby didn’t seem to be doing anything much. “What do you do with them when they’re awake?”

“They’re less than a month old,” Vader said, finishing off the first container and opening the second. It was sweet dumplings, and she polished off the set in a minute. 

“Heh!” Kix held Leia out as she squeaked, “listen!” 

Anakin Skywalker smiled faintly. If she was smiling at her daughter or the battle-hardened medic holding her with delight on his face, Rex wasn’t sure. 

“When do you get out of house arrest?” Kix asked. 

“If they discover the obvious,” she rolled her eyes, “that Orn Free Ta is a corrupt piece of poodoo and needs to be hung.” 

“Who is leading the investigation?” 

“Mace Windu,” Skywalker snorted. 

“He’ll do his job,” Rex said, but Skywalker didn’t seem convinced. “He’s good.” 

“Ugh,” she rubbed sauce off her chin. “Jedi.” 

She must have been exhausted to not be able to summon her usual amount of vitriol she had for the Jedi. Rex was impressed with Luke and Leia if they managed to wear her down to this point when even months-long campaigns didn’t do the trick. 

“Good job, baby commander,” he whispered to Luke. Bright blue eyes blinked up at him, considering and patient. “You will be great, won’t you?”

“Of course they will,” Skywalker set the last container aside, leaning forward again and then pausing to yawn deeply. She settled sideways on the couch, crossing her arms and turning her head to glare at Rex and Kix. 

The twins were quiet and both clones were content to sit quietly on the expensive couch. 

Rex, busy with imagining the sort of nicknames and armor he could give the twins when they got older, jolted faintly when Kix tapped his ankle with his boot. 

He looked up and then over to see Skywalker stretched out on the couch, eyes closed and breathing deeply. She was still managing to scowl though, her brow furrowed as her arms were knotted tightly over her chest. 

They exchanged a look and settled back into their respective seats as Luke and Leia also fell back asleep. 

The door opened a few hours later, voices floating through and Rex grimaced as Skywalker’s eyes flew open and she jolted upright. 

“What?” 

“Sorry, my love,” Padme floated into the room, dressed in one of his senate outfits, Mace Windu and Obi-Wan Kenobi on his heels. “Oh, Rex! Kix!” 

“Captains?” Obi-Wan frowned at them, but they were holding Lord Vader’s infant children and as far as Rex was concerned, Luke outranked most everyone else. 

“Generals.” He nodded, avoiding watching Skywalker blink sleep from her eyes, which turned bright amber as she glowered over the edge of the couch. 

“I was asleep,” she hissed dangerously, the threat of violence now weighing in the room. 

“I know, I know,” Padme leaned down to hiss her forehead. “But they’re just here to tell you.” He gestured at Windu. 

“That your house arrest is complete and Orn Free Taa has been arrested for corruption.” 

“Good job,” Vader snarled, rising off the couch and seemingly deeming the babies safe in their arms, ignored the clones. “Do you want a list of the other senators that Dooku was bribing?” 

“Yes!” Windu managed to glare even harder at her. “You have a list?” 

“I have their contact information,” she replied, leaning down to kiss her gleeful husband square on the mouth. “And their banking information.” 

“Wonderful,” Obi-Wan sighed, “traitors.”

Skywalker fished something from her pocket and tossed it to the Jedi. “Great, get out.” 

“Thank you for your time, Senator,” Mace said dryly, “captains?” 

“They’re staying,” Padme interjected, beaming up at his wife, exhausted and rumpled. “They’re babysitting!” 

“Babysitting!” Rex watched Skywalker frown at her husband. “What? No? Why would we leave the children?” 

“A date,” Padme said calmly, adjusting her rumpled tunic and grinning. “A real date...in a nice restaurant...with food someone else made...you can dress in your Sith robes and scare the hell out of the rest of the diners.” 

“Oh,” she looked tempted, glancing first at her husband and then at the others. “Two captains aren’t enough to protect them. There are still enemies of mine out there.” 

“And mine,” Padme turned a beautiful smile to the two Jedi. Mace looked like he wished he’d never heard of Skywalker or babies. Obi-Wan looked like a bantha caught in the headlights. “Gentlemen?” 

“Very well,” Mace sighed, capitulating much more easily than anyone expected. 

“I don’t know anything about babies,” Obi-Wan flustered, “really, Senator. I’m useless.’ 

“He is,” Anakin agreed, smirking at the other man, “you simply have to protect them, Kenobi. Can you do that?” 

“Of course I can!” 

“Call my mother in law,” Padme said, “dearest, I’ll make the reservation while you get ready.”

“Very well,” with deep reluctance, Skywalker walked out of the room and Rex grinned down at the quiet baby. Luke mouthed at him, and Rex was sufficiently distracted while Padme changed outfits, showed the Jedi where the baby supplies were, and talked them through changing a diaper. 

When Skywalker re-emerged, Rex had to remind himself that they weren’t shooting at or trying to kill her. 

She looked like Vader. Black robes with the occasional deeply blue highlight, though with more ornamentation than Rex was used to seeing her wear. Her hair was back and tied up with two sticks jabbed through the updo that looked like they could be used as weapons. 

After both parents spent a few minutes worrying over the children, Padme held out his arm and grinned. 

“Ready to make a scene?” He asked, and Rex had never been so happy that Vader had defected when she grinned in response. 

As soon as the couple was gone, Mace Windu hopped onto the couch that Skywalker had left, turning on the holo. Obi-Wan stared. 

“They are going to make a scene,” Mace smirked, switching through the channels. “It’s going to be hilarious. A former Sith Lord and a Senator?” 

@#$34

Padme Amidala was far beyond the point of caring what people thought of his wife. Ex-sith Lord or ex-Separatist, he didn’t care. If the Jedi disapproved if the Republic disapproved it didn’t matter to him. 

“Are you alright?” Her hands were tight on the controls, and he watched her face twist a bit. 

“I haven’t left them before,” Anakin admitted.

“But can you check on them with the Force?” 

“Yes,” she admitted. “But still.”

“We’re going to enjoy the evening,” Padme promised, “a nice dinner.”

“I’m not sure a fancy evening out is my idea of fun,” Anakin said and his heart warmed with pride at the admission. “Can we go shopping for some parts?”

“Of course, after dessert.”

She smirked and landed the speeder in the restaurant parking and for the first time, brought her relationship with her husband into the light. The paparazzi who lurked outside the restaurant, one of the nicest in the Senate Dome Grid, turned their attention toward them, jaws dropping. 

#$#$3

Mace Windu couldn’t tear his eyes off the tiny bundle in his arms. Swaddled in a traditional Naboo cotton and just as grumpy as ever, she tried to focus on him. 

Rex was deeply amused to see Obi-Wan gently bobbing Luke up and down in his arms, equally enthralled. 

“They’re so powerful,” the Jedi muttered, “and so light.” 

“Did you see their hands?” Kix asked, “they’re tiny!” 

Threepio was clanking around and making dinner and all eyes turned to the holo when Mace Windu gave a satisfied snort. Kix hurried back into the room as the four men settled onto the couch to watch the station that focused mostly on gossip and nonsense blared their jingle in the middle of a piece on Senator Organa's supposed affair. 

“Good evening, everyone!” The chipper woman with layered make-up beamed at the screen. Rex, having spent plenty of time around Senator Amidala to know when some makeup was too much, grimaced. “Stunning news today, Senator Amidala of Naboo steps out with,” the screen changed dramatically to a video of Padme and Anakin standing just outside the restaurant. Anakin looked as tall, terrifying, and imposing as she had during her Sith days. In brilliant contrast to the ex-Sith was Padme in a cream-colored suit and a dizzying headpiece. 

“This is hilarious,” Mace Windu angled Leia toward the screen. She squeaked faintly, flailing a free arm toward the screen. 

“Skywalkers are so dramatic,” Obi-Wan scoffed, kissing Lukes's forehead. 

“I didn’t think that someone could come back from the Dark Side,” Mace admitted, “but I suppose you have to be seduced to the light too.”

“Mace!” Scandalized, Obi-Wan tried to cover Luke’s ears as a dozen people on the screen began to abandon the restaurant in frantic packs. “You really shouldn’t mention things like that.”

“This is the first time a Sith Lord has ever turned, that we know of, and it was one of our strongest enemies that Padme Amidala managed to wrangle to join us...or at least stop trying to kill us.” 

“They’re terrifying the civilians!” Obi-wan protested

“They’ll be fine.” Mace shrugged. 

#$#$#

The server who approached their table, looked dramatically nonplussed as he waited beside their table. His expression of complete apathy went a long way to calming Anakin’s nerves. 

“Good evening,” he said, blandly polite, “My name is Misha and I’ll be your server tonight.” Behind him, people were leaving their tables and casting fearful glances toward them. He didn’t even seem to notice the fear around him “What can I get for you to drink?” 

“Water,” Anakin said automatically. 

“Water for myself as well,” Padme agreed, “and we’ll need a few minutes with the menu.” 

“Of course,” the man agreed instantly and vanished. Curious, Anakin stared after him, ignoring the terrified stares of the remaining diners. 

“He works food service in the Senate Dome Grid,” Padme said, “I’m sure a former Sith Lord isn’t going to alarm him.” 

Anakin nodded and closed her eyes, finding the twins easily. They were happy and quiet and seemingly unbothered by being left alone. 

“How are the twins?” Padme asked.

“Fine,” Anakin admitted slowly, “sleepy.”

“See, Rex and Kix will take care of all of them?” 

“Windu and Kenobi included?” 

“Of course, what do you want?” 

“Whatever you think I will like,” Anakin hardly recognized some of the dishes. She closed the menu and watched Padme beam at her.

##$#$#

Kix was glad that there were two force-sensitives around when the twins started to fuss. It was a simple scan and a probe to figure out that the twins were hungry and then later needed a change. 

Various news stations were still panicking over Lord Vader’s appearance on the planet with Senator Amidala, while Rex tried to figure out how to get Luke into his pajamas. 

It was a two-man job, Obi-Wan holding Luke by his torso while Rex maneuvered his tiny feet into the footie-pajamas. 

He wondered if he’d ever gotten the same treatment. If someone had ever cradled Rex closely when he’d been that small. If it had taken two long necks to change a baby clone or if he had been dealt with by a machine. 

He was distracted from the special when Luke smacked the side of his face.

What did it mean to be a baby? Or a child? What did it mean to be a parent? 

$#$#$#$3

The restaurant emptied quickly of the rest of the diners. Three years of fear-mongering and endless news pieces about Vader bloodthirsty attitude, violent temper, and willingness to kill people who even slightly inconvenience her, meant that most were too scared to stay in the same building as her. 

Padme was tickled with delight as, twenty minutes into their date and over a single appetizer, they were left the only couple in the restaurant. 

He took care to extend their date, admiring his wife in the dim lighting at her delight at the various dishes that came across their table. 

The expression on her face when he fed her a bite of chocolate mousse was priceless. Her blue eyes sparkled just as they had the first time she’d eaten cake in his apartment the night she’d come to kill him. 

As fun as the date was and as much as Padme really wanted to take her out to the scrapyards, Anakin was getting antsy by the time their dinner reached the hour and a half mark. 

“Do you want to go home?” He asked her and Anakin nodded as she drained the last of her water. “I’m sure that Luke and Leia are getting just as worried about you,” Padme rose and Anakin jumped to her feet. He paid the bill and left a large enough tip to compensate for the escape of the other diners and their potential tips, and hopped into the speeder that Anakin had waiting. 

He hoped in, gigging at the paparazzi and bystanders gaping at the scene. 

Sometimes chaos was fun! 

$#$#

Luke and Leia had both reached their limit of being able to deal with the physical separation from their mother. 

Luke, in particular, was bitterly distraught, his pitiful, miserable whimpers making Rex’s heartache as Luke twisted and turned in his grip.

“Can’t you calm him down?” He snapped at Obi-Wan. 

“No,” frazzled, the Jedi was holding a screaming Leia and bobbing her up and down. “This isn’t anything I can help with. They just really want their mother!” 

“Give her to Kix,” Rex ordered. He didn’t know what babies were capable of knowing and what Sith babies could do was even more of a gamble. Kix had been there when Leia was born, and maybe that was enough. Sure enough, when Kix swept the shrieking bundle into his arms she quieted faintly. 

“Shh, shh, It’s okay, little commander,” Kix muttered, “it’s okay. You’ll be okay. She’ll be home soon.” 

“She’d better be,” for the first time since Rex had met Mace, it was clear he didn’t know what to do.

“I’m here!” The door slammed opened and Skywalker bounded through, scooping up one infant and then the other with little regard for their carriers. 

“Hello!” Padme swarmed through the room, taking Leia from her arms. 

Rex, Kix, and the Jedi were stunned at the sight of Vader cooing apologetically at her son. In a single instant, the woman Rex had seen single-handedly capture an entire battalion, had transformed from the raging, dangerous predator to a cooing, affectionate being. 

It was deeply alarming and a little unnerving. When she turned her attention to Rex, he froze. 

“Well done, Captain Rex, you are a credit to your unit.” 

“Yes, sir!” He saluted, only someone sarcastically. 

Staring lovingly down at her calming son, Vader waved a free hand at the Jedi and the clones. “You’re dismissed.” 

“Ani,” Padme admonished softly, tickling Leia’s chin. 

“Good evening, Senator, Princess,” Obi-Wan straightened his robes and gave a stiff bow. Mace followed a second later, and Rex and Kix only left after they gave Luke and Leia necessary attentions.

“Hold on, Captain,” Padme said, catching them at the door. 

“Senator?” 

“Here,” he handed them both a decent amount of credits, “for babysitting.” 

“Why didn’t the generals get any?” Rex weighed the bag in his hand before tucking it away. 

“Jedi,” Senator Amidala said with a perfectly straight face, “have no need for material possessions.” 

“Right,” Kix winked, “thank you, Senator.” 

“Were they a handful?” 

“Not at all,” Rex promised, grinning at Anakin who had finally gotten Luke to stop whimpering. “Good night.” 

“Good night,” the door shut behind them and they high-fived as the Amidala-Skywalkers vanished. 

“Did you get enough for a good report?” 

“Sure,” Kix admitted, “now we just need to do more research.” 

“I wonder if people are going to want us to arrest her,” Rex wondered as they entered the turbolift. 

#$#$#

Luke and Leia were extra clingy that evening, refusing to settle into their cribs and refusing to let Anakin or Padme out of their sight. 

Padme was amused by how easily Anakin was convinced to settle the twins into bed between them. 

She’d told him of her many years sleeping beside her mother while on Tatooine, and then how hard it was to sleep without once that Sith had taken her. He didn’t protest and instead slid into bed to kissed Luke on the cheek and watched his wife hover anxiously. 

“It’s alright, Ani,” Padme promised. “Come to bed.” 

“They’re going to hate me,” Anakin said, surprising him as she settled beside Leia. 

“They’re babies, they aren’t going to hate you.” 

“Hmm,” unconvinced, Anakin stayed awake well into the night, watching the rise and fall of their tiny chests


	4. Toys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Leia have their favorite toys, much to their parent's annoyance.

Padme was convinced that Sith Lords had to earn a master's in theater before they were allowed to go out and subjugate the galaxy. 

“TRAITOR!” Vader exclaimed. “HOW  _ DARE YOU _ ?” 

Perhaps, he thought, you weren’t allowed to even  _ attempt _ to be a Sith if you didn’t know how to make the shadows writhe around you. 

“You’ve turned against  _ everything _ you stand for!” Vader hissed. “You have  _ betrayed  _ me!” 

You couldn’t get that red lightsaber if you didn’t couldn’t manage a suitably dramatic reveal When the timing was  _ everything _ .

“Ani,” Shmi didn’t look up from where she was entertaining Luke, “I don't’ understand what you’re so upset about.” 

_ Liar _ . Padme thought. His mother-in-law and wife glared at him, and he shrugged and continued to sip on his win. 

“Mother,” Vader hissed, amber eyes as poisonous as the expression on her face. “ _ Mother _ , I have been careful when exposing the children to... _ inappropriate _ material!” 

_ I’ve married a ridiculous woman _ . Padme mused, bending over just enough to kiss Leia’s head. She squirmed against his shirt, still gumming on her toy. 

“Inappropriate material?”

“Jedi!” Ignoring the fact that her mother was a Jedi, and Vader had spent years as an assassin, she turned on her heels. As always, her robes flared about dramatically. “Scum! Around my son!” 

“Anakin,” Shmi was grinning, holding Luke’s favorite toy above his head. “Let him enjoy it.” 

“I won’t!” Vader seethed, and the lights flickered ominously. Padme had grown used to the fact that reality always seemed to  _ bend _ when his wife was particularly annoyed...or overwrought as one truly spectacular night had taught him. She glanced at him as if sensing the memory before flushing faintly. “ _ Let my son. _ ” 

“It’s his favorite toy!” Shmi argued, and her grandson shrieked in excitement as she handed the plush, infant-sized, stuffed figure of Yoda back to Luke. The baby squealed, latching onto an ear with his mouth, and kicking his feet excitedly. 

“Traitor,” Vader snapped at her son, without any real heat. They’d learned the hard way the Luke was  _ sensitive _ to Vader’s mercurial emotions. Leia too. “How could you? Yoda?”

“He likes Yoda.” Master Shmi kissed Luke’s forehead. The baby continued to cling to his stuffed toy Yoda. 

“ _ Yoda _ !” Vader fell back on the couch, sliding her eyes toward Padme, who grinned. “You don’t even care, do you?”

Grandmaster Yoda was Luke’s  _ favorite _ Jedi in the galaxy. Even more than his grandmother, even more than Qui-Gon, who always had lots of hair to chew on, and just a bit above Obi-Wan. Padme would never understand what drew his son to Obi-Wan, but he  _ adored _ the ginger. Obi-Wan never knew what to do with him. 

But it was Yoda that Luke had lost his tiny mind when meeting for the first time. Shrieking and screaming with excitement, and throwing himself out of Shmi’s arms to land on the diminutive master. Yanking on his ears, and tugging on his robes, and generally getting his hands on as much of the Grandmaster that he could. 

Vader had been so betrayed by his infatuation with the Jedi that she’d yanked Luke out of the room, only for him to burst into tears. Any attempt to separate the two had left Luke sobbing wretchedly for hours, setting off Leia and then even Threepio. 

Luke would only be comforted by the ancient Jedi master. 

The compromise had been the gift that Shmi had assembled in a few days. 

“It isn’t even Yoda,” Anakin sighed, thumping her head against the back of the couch. “It’s a  _ young _ version of Yoda. It’s a Baby Yoda.” 

“Anakin,” Padme handed Leia to her. “It’s just a toy.” 

“But Leia doesn’t have a toy she loves!” She pointed out reasonably. “She’s jealous.” 

“Well,” Padme sighed, “we'll just have to find Leia’s  _ favorite _ Jedi.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Anakin grumbled. Her frowned matched Leia’s. “I don’t need another child obsessed with a frog.” 

#$#$#

Politicians had a knack for understating  _ everything _ . For acting as if nothing had gone wrong. For pretending that they were friends. 

Vader smirked as Padme and Bail Organa faced each other down. 

_ “Senator _ ,” Padme’s smile was as pleasant as ever, but the lines between his eyes was not. “I’m pleased to see you’ve met my daughter.”

“She’s an angel.” Bail cooed at Leia, who had fistfuls of his beard and wasn’t letting go anytime soon. 

Maybe politicians had to be enemies before they could become friends, before they could prove that they could properly be enemies again. 

“Leia is precious,” Padme agreed, his hands were tucked into his sleeves to avoid anyone seeing how they were clenched. 

“Breha and I have been working to adopt a little girl,” Bail kissed Leia’s forehead again. The girl  _ squealed _ and tried to kiss back. “Her name is Winter.” 

“ _ Oh _ ?”

Vader chewed on her piece of candy, watching the two politicians have a calm, frigid argument that would have put any confrontation she had with Dooku to shame. 

“We should introduce them when they get old enough. Luke too.” Bail shifted Leia so she could settle against his chest. She did so with a deep sigh, tucking her arms beneath her and sinking into the comfort of Alderaan raised nerf wool.” 

“I’m sure they’ll be the best of friends,” Padme’s razor-sharp smile was met with Bail’s amused grin. 

“I hope so, old friend. I certainly hope so.”

Vader made a mental note to call her mother and commission another toy. 

#$#$#$3

Commander Fox  _ loved _ Princess Leia and Prince Luke. He loved how Luke had once spit-up on the chancellor, and how Leia’s diaper usually experienced mysterious leaks whenever he went to hold her. He loved how, despite all of his power and authority, he couldn’t manage to handle either one of them for more than a minute or two. He would route Chancellor Palpatine's trips through the senate past Senator Amidala’s and Lord Vader’s last known location just to catch a glimpse of them. 

Which he had done now. Coordinating with his brothers was easy, and he could intercept Lord Vader and Senator Amidala carrying their children through the Senate building. 

“Ah,” Palpatine caught sight of the Sith and the Senator. His expression twitched faintly. “My old friend, Senator Amidala!” 

“Chancellor,” Amidala didn’t sound warm or calm, but he sure looked it. He’d grown progressively less fond of the chancellor. If he thought Fox didn’t know about the Delegation of 2,000, then he was stupid. Fox knew  _ everything _ that happened in the Senate building. “What a surprise.” He had the grumpy Little Commander in his arms. She was clinging to a stuffed doll that looked an  _ awful _ lot like Senator Bail Organa. The clothes and color scheme could not have been accidental. 

“It is a surprise,” Chancellor Palpatine sighed. “My friend, I fear that why we do not see eye-to-eye on many things, we must both agree that we’re working for the betterment of the galaxy.” 

“Oh, damn,” Vader cursed before Amidala could reply. She turned, and Fox craned his head to see the golden-haired form of the Little Commander in Vader’s arms. The baby was distracted by the toy clasped firmly between chubby fingers. 

Chancellor Palpatine’s face did a funny twist as he recognized the green lump in the child’s hands. “Oh, what a charming toy.” 

“Isn’t it?” Vader agreed drolly. “He  _ loves _ the Jedi. Yoda in particular.” 

“I see.” He looked over at Leia’s toy. 

“Her favorite senator,” Padme explained, wiggling cloth Bail Organa's arm at Palpatine. 

“What excellent choices,” the old man mused, “if you’ll excuse me.” He moved around the couple, which made no move to budge from the middle of the hall. Fox passed by Vader and grinned beneath his helmet. 

He loved Luke and Leia, but he loved Lord Vader more.  _ She _ was helping him take down the fools who endangered his senate and  _ his _ Republic. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was hopped up on a bunch of wine and chocolate when I started writing this. You will accept the mess as it is. There will be no take-backsies.


End file.
